


Ann(e) In the Evening

by gatheringblues



Series: The Domestic Bliss of Anne Lister and Ann Walker [2]
Category: Gentleman Jack (TV)
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Draw Me Like One of Your French Girls, F/F, Femslash, Married Anne Lister (1791-1840)/Ann Walker (1803-1854), Multiple Orgasms, One Shot, Porn with Feelings, Vaginal Fingering, anne lister is stone butch, clit orgasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:06:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23618737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatheringblues/pseuds/gatheringblues
Summary: Ann promised to paint her wife and has been waiting all day for some time alone.Some painting happens, but mostly as foreplay, and the chaumière is used for its intended purpose.
Relationships: Anne Lister (1791-1840)/Ann Walker (1803-1854)
Series: The Domestic Bliss of Anne Lister and Ann Walker [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1700134
Comments: 19
Kudos: 97





	Ann(e) In the Evening

**Author's Note:**

> This is a smutty follow up to a fluffy one shot. However, they both stand on their own.  
> Many thanks to stillwaterseas for their feedback. I was doubting myself and they gave me the confidence boost I needed.

Ann opened the windows of the chaumière, allowing the golden spring light to stream in and illuminate Anne's face. Normally they had to keep them closed in case someone wandered by and saw them being intimate. With the warm, natural light the chaumière was even cozier.

It was Ann's favourite place. Sometimes she felt like Anne had made it for her. That was silly, Anne had built the garden house before they'd been together, though they had been flirting. It was the perfect place for them to escape because it was away from prying eyes. Ann often retreated to its shelter to get away from the noise and bustle of her in-laws or The Tribe. She could sit and paint for hours in peace.

She settled Anne on the chesterfield the way she wanted. The sunlight on her cheekbones cast her in a golden hue. Anne had built a small fire to chase away the spring chill, so she was also lit by the dancing flames. Ann directed her wife to place her legs onto the cushions. Anne smiled at her while she fussed with the skirt fabric to form a pleasing shape. She stroked Anne's arm from the shoulder to the wrist and posed her hand on her knee. Then she brushed the bottom of her wife’s jaw, tilting her head to catch the light. Anne took a quick breath, and Ann couldn't help but lean in for a peck.

"Are you comfortable?" she asked, her voice low and teasing, suggesting that she knew ways to make Anne very comfortable.

"Very," Anne said.

"Good." Ann sat herself down in her painting chair. She took out her pencils and sketched the rough shape of her wife's limbs. Ann had only been working for a few minutes when Anne started to get fidgety.

"Sit still," Ann admonished. Anne sighed and stopped moving. "Tell me about your latest medical readings," Ann said, taking pity on her poor wife. Anne launched into a passionate monologue. Ann focused on refining the sketch while her wife rambled, but she paid enough attention to prompt Anne to keep talking.

In ten minutes she had a sketch that would serve as a guide for her watercolours. She wet her brush and applied the first layer of light paint across the skin areas. She’d spent so long studying her wife she didn’t need her to pose. She knew Anne’s lips, her smile, her bright eyes. She knew the shape of her body and the skill of her hands. Yet it was still wonderful to look up and follow the planes of her cheekbones and the set of her shoulders. Every time Ann looked up her wife was watching her work and smiling. It made her feel important.

She cleaned her bush and set the painting aside. "I have to wait for that to dry," she said.

"Can I move now?" Anne asked. Ann nodded and they moved towards each other. Anne kissed her forehead, both her cheeks, her nose and then, finally, her mouth. Ann hummed in pleasure when their lips met again and again. A warm buzz building in her arms and chest. She ran her fingers along the shell of Anne's ear, brushed the short hairs at the nape of her wife's neck, and placed her hand over Anne's heart. She could feel the pulse of Anne's heartbeat under her fingers, and she felt so gloriously grateful that she was alive to love her wife. Anne tried to deepen the kiss but Ann pulled away.

"The first layer should be dry now."

Anne grinned rakishly at her as she went back to her painting, and it was almost enough to tempt her back, but she wanted this to last.

Her wife’s lips were a deep red from their kisses, so Ann darkened her lips in the painting, her brush caressing the curves. Then she lay down a base layer of blue for Anne’s clothes.

Anne wore colours now, having cast off her perpetual mourning after their wedding. She still preferred darker colours, but Ann rejoiced with every stroke she painted. Here was documented proof that she made Anne happy.

She moved to Anne’s hair, the precise curls and severe bun that made her so strikingly handsome. Anne was watching her work with such fierce adoration that Ann’s breath stuttered. She rushed through the last few blocks of colour and then abandoned her brush without cleaning it.

She needed to add many more layers of detail before she could call the painting finished, but she had been waiting for Anne all day and couldn't wait a moment longer. She sat next to her wife on the chesterfield and pulled Anne by her cravat. Their lips met in a crash and Anne pushed her back, leaning her over and claiming her mouth.

Ann moaned, the sound coming up from the molten fire in her belly and rumbling in her throat. Her wife chuckled and bit her bottom lip. Ann gasped with pleasure at the sharp pain and opened her legs so her wife could get closer. Instead, Anne stood up, leaving Ann aching.  
"The window," Anne said, seeing the look on her wife’s face. She closed the shutters and the chaumière glowed from the warmth of the fire.

Ann reached towards her, inviting her wife back into her embrace.

Anne smothered her with kisses, pushed her shawl off her shoulders and kissed down her neck to her chest. Ann tangled her fingers in Anne’s cravat, her fingers fumbling with the pin. When she finally got it undone she pulled the cravat off, tossing it to the side so she could push open Anne’s collar and kiss her neck. She had a sensitive spot in the hollow between her collarbone and neck. Ann kissed her there, teasing her with her tongue. Anne shuddered against her and pushed up her skirt.

"The paint is probably dry," Ann managed to say breathlessly between kisses. "I could probably paint another layer." She had no intention of stopping.

"Don’t you dare," Anne growled, running her hand up her stockings and the inside of her thigh.

Ann managed to stop herself from bucking her hips into her wife’s hand, but she couldn’t stop her needy whine. Then Anne brushed along her labia where she was slick already and slid wet fingers up to her clit. Ann cried out, pleasure sparking as Anne rubbed her clit in a slow circle.

"Yes, my love. Let me hear you," Anne said.

Ann’s breathing became heavy as Anne continued to circle her clit. The sensation of liquid fire spread slipped from her belly down her legs and up into her chest. They kissed deeply while Anne undid her, their tongues brushing until the pleasure was too much to bear and not enough.

"More, please," Ann begged.

Anne pressed firmly on her clit at the same slow speed. The moment stretched. Ann came with a cracked shout, jerking under her wife’s steady fingers. The fire in her body burned through her toes, her calves, her wrists, and her face. She was riding the final wave of pleasure when Anne pushed inside her.

Ann gasped, her back arching up so much their chests touched.

"That’s it darling. I’m going to make you come again for me," Anne said. She curled her fingers, rocking into Ann’s body.

Ann was losing her sense of the outside world. There was a cushion behind her head, beautiful pressure concentrated at the centre of her soul, and her wife’s rapturous love. That was the whole world.

Anne rocked her hand again and again until Ann sobbed with pleasure. She grabbed Anne’s face with both hands and pulled her in for a searing kiss.

Anne didn't stop moving. She felt so full. She was full. Anne was filling her up, pumping deep inside her. She felt hot and stretched around Anne’s knuckles. She could feel a pool of her come forming underneath her as each stroke brought her closer to the edge for a second time.

"Look at me," Anne commanded.

She hadn’t realized she’d closed her eyes. She forced them open and locked eyes with her wife. Anne pressed her thumb on Ann’s clit and curled her fingers the sensitive spot inside her.

Ann stopped breathing. The world contracted again to contain only her wife’s honey-brown eyes. Fire roared in her ears. She was burning everywhere but it all was rushing towards Anne's fingers. Too small a point for all that feeling. She exploded. Her head snapped back and she convulsed, her hips jerking rhythmically while her come poured into Anne's hand.

She came back to herself in pieces. First, she was aware of her own ragged breathing in her ears, then the movement of her chest. Anne’s fingers were still inside her. She thought she had knees. She might have had toes. Anne pulled her hand out and it felt like a piece of herself was being taken away. Her face was wet. Was she crying? She thought she was. Life was too good, too sweet to be real. Happiness like this needed tears.

Anne lay down beside her, their bodies pressed together on the narrow chesterfield. They were so close they could have been one person. Anne lay her head on Ann’s chest. They wrapped their arms around each other and listened to Ann’s breathing return to normal. Birds were singing outside. The fire crackled as it burned down to coals and the sky darkened.

"You didn’t finish your painting," Anne said eventually.  
"That’s alright. We’ll finish it another time," Ann said. She was already looking forward to the next session.


End file.
